


Lost In the Stars

by Straight_Outta_Hobbiton



Category: Bleach, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, M/M, Probably A Smuggler!Kisuke, Starship Captain!Ichigo, There's a little eternal sunshine in this too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-17 01:49:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14822928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Straight_Outta_Hobbiton/pseuds/Straight_Outta_Hobbiton
Summary: It's been a few hundred years, and Ichigo is a Starfleet captain, looking glamorous in gold as he explores the universe. Like any good captain, he's more than happy to help a ship in need— though he's more than a little bit surprised by its commander.





	Lost In the Stars

“Captain Kurosaki, we have an incoming distress signal from a trading ship near Capella IV.”

 

Ichigo looks up from his PADD, brow furrowed.

 

“Patch it in, T’Ruao.”

 

The Vulcan nods and turns back to her computer. A few moments later, the screen flickers to life.

 

Ichigo freezes as the picture clears.

 

“Hello? Hello? I’m sorry, my communications equipment is damaged, I can’t get a picture.”

 

“Urahara.”

 

The man on the screen brightens.

 

“Oh? It seems my reputation precedes me,” he says. “And with whom am I speaking?”

 

“Captain Ichigo Kurosaki, of the USS Apollo.”

 

“A Starfleet captain? I’m honored.” He grins. “Um… I’m in a spot of trouble. My communicators are damaged, like I mentioned, and my thrusters are down completely. There’s likely some damage in ventilation, too, leaving some problems as to how I plan on continuing breathing for much longer.”

 

“…” There’d been no reaction to Ichigo’s name, not even the faintest twitch of surprise at… Well, the orangette supposes it doesn’t really matter.

 

“Understood. How did these… Damages… Come to be?”

 

Scarlet touches the blond’s cheeks.

 

“Ah… I made the mistake of offering the wife of a Teer a hand up when she tripped over the hem of her dress.”

 

Ichigo pauses, eyes sliding shut as a headache begins to form. Somewhere to his right, he thinks one of his crewmen facepalmed.

 

“… We’ll beam you aboard shortly,” Ichigo tells him. “Unless you’d prefer to remain until we can send out an engineer to have a look.”

 

“Oh, don’t worry about the ship— it’s dead in the water, as far as I can tell, and it’s unlikely that Starfleet will have the necessary technology to fix it— the  _ Shouten _ ’s a good century behind, in some ways.”

 

Ichigo ignores the odd looks his subordinates give each other at this. Knowing the blond, he doubts the case is so simple.

 

“Very well. Will fifteen minutes suffice to collect any necessities?"

 

“Perfect, Captain."

 

Ichigo nods.

 

"Fifteen minutes, then. Kurosaki out."

 

The screen goes blank and after a moment, Ichigo pushes himself to his feet.

 

"Tertius, you have the con," he says, and the Andorian nods, moving to take his captain's place silently.

 

"Grimm, you're with me."

 

Grimmjow nods, already halfway out of his chair. He stays quiet until the turbolift doors slide shut.

 

"That's him, isn't it?" He asks, mouth turning down into a small frown. "The scientist?"

 

Ichigo's mouth purses.

 

"Looks like," he answers. "Either he's a better liar than I remember or he doesn't remember me."

 

"Like anyone could forget you, Kurosaki."

 

Ichigo smiles crookedly and steps off the turbolift, clasping his hands behind his back.

 

"Nikha, report."

 

"He'll be beaming up shortly," the Orion tells him, pushing blonde hair out of her face with a hand. "Along with a suitcase and a small creature— a feline."

 

Ichigo stiffens, but only nods.

 

"Very well. Proceed."

 

The familiar golden light of the transporter beam flares to life, and for the first time in two hundred years, Urahara Kisuke is standing before him, clutching a tattered duffle and a small black cat.

 

He smiles that familiar, brilliant, friendly smile and steps off the pad, shifting the cat until he can hold out a hand to shake.

 

"And would you be the captain, then?"

 

Ichigo takes his hand.

 

"Captain Ichigo Kurosaki, at your service," he says, nodding briskly to hide his flinch at the blankness in his old teacher's eyes. "This is my first officer, Grimmjow Jagerjacques."

 

Grimmjow doesn't offer a hand, but Urahara seems less inclined to offer his to the blue-haired man anyway.

 

"Pleasure," he offers. "Thanks for helping me out there— me and Yoru-chan would've been dead if you hadn't found us."

 

Ichigo offers him a crooked smile.

 

"No problem," he replies. "We've got plenty of room for a guest or two. Where are you headed? If it's on our way we can drop you off."

 

"Oh, no destination, really— Yoru-chan and I are explorers, of a sort. The nearest port will do us just fine."

 

Ichigo nods, an odd feeling building in his chest. Kisuke seems to genuinely not recognize him— Ichigo had gotten good at reading his tells, before everything, and he can’t see a single one. Not the ripple of muscle under his eye or the slight clench in his jaw.

 

“Alright, then,” he says, because he’s a starship captain now, and starship captains are tactful and don’t demand answers about personal things while on the clock. “If you’ll just follow me, Mr. Urahara, I’ll take you to the guest quarters.”

 

Grimmjow doesn’t follow them, but that’s probably for the best. He’s alright when it comes to pushing, but this is Ichigo’s ex they’re talking about, and Grimmjow was there for most of the fall-out. He’ll ask, even if he doesn’t _ actually  _ ask, and Ichigo’s not really ready for that.

 

His shift’s over in twenty minutes, thank God. He can go to his quarters and sort himself out.

 

Or try to, at least.

  
  


*.*

  
  


The cat slips into his quarters halfway through Beta shift via the air vents. Ichigo should be sleeping, but he isn’t. Of course he isn’t.

 

“Yoruichi-san,” he greets quietly as she hops up onto his bed. “You look well.”

 

Yoruichi presses her face into his neck, letting out a little sigh.

 

“It’s good to see you, Ichigo,” she says. “Gold looks good on you.”

 

Ichigo chuckles tiredly, shifting to make space for her to curl up beside him.

 

“What’s wrong with him, Yoruichi-san?” he asks once she’s settled herself comfortably. “He— it’s like he didn’t recognize me.”

 

“... He doesn’t.” Yoruichi looks at him, golden eyes soft and sad. “He— I don’t know what he did, exactly, he never explained— but… he took your last fight badly.”

 

“So he, what, wiped me from his memory?” Ichigo rolls onto his back, an old anger flaring up faster than it probably should have. “I left to cool off— I just crashed at Ururu’s! And when I went back to the shop in the morning…”

 

It had been gone, not even a mark in the dirt to show what had once stood there.

 

They’d been arguing about Starfleet. Ichigo had wanted to go, wanted to see the stars and register himself as an alien, if only to avoid the paperwork that needed to be reworked every ten years or so. Kisuke had disagreed.

 

Things had gotten heated, and in the end, Ichigo had grabbed his jacket and walked out, smoke pouring out his ears.

When he’d gone home (because the shop was home, for a hundred years, it was his) and found nothing left, he’d cried for days, curled up on Ururu’s couch until there were no tears left. A week later, he’d enrolled himself in Starfleet.

 

“Not just you— he thinks he’s Human, as far as I can tell. Just an old one,” Yoruichi says softly. “He’s always been delicate, Ichigo. I think he thought… I don’t know what he thought. But I know how to fix it.”

 

Ichigo pauses.

 

“What do you mean, fix it?”

 

“I went through his notes, after it all,” Yoruichi admits. “He put in a backdoor— a way to reverse it all, if there ever was a chance to.”

 

“How?”

 

“A kiss,” she admits. “From you. He was always a romantic, that way.”

 

“... What?”

 

“I don’t think Kisuke could imagine a life without you in it,” Yoruichi says, settling her head on her paws. “Not without everything going back to the way it was between you. It makes sense, really— you’re not the type of person to kiss people just because.”

 

She’s right, obviously, but… well, that sort of puts Ichigo in an awkward position, doesn’t it?

 

Because Ichigo’s never gotten over Kisuke, not really. He’s dated since everything fell apart, yeah— even got married, once— but the wound is still fresh, to say the least.

 

(Ichigo still has nightmares about that morning, about the shop disappearing before his eyes and his partner nowhere to be found.)

 

That being said, Ichigo hasn’t seen Kisuke in… two hundred years. Is it— is it worth it? To dig deeper into an old wound and make it bleed?

 

“I…” Ichigo turns his head, a hand finding Yoruichi’s soft fur. “It’s three days until we reach port. Give me until then to decide?”

 

A rough tongue swipes comfortingly over Ichigo’s fingers.

 

“Sure thing, kid,” she says. “Mind if I stay here tonight? Kisuke’s busy trying to hack into your archives, and I don’t wanna bother him.”

 

“Wha— goddammit!”

**Author's Note:**

> If and when I flesh this out further (because I so desperately want to), it'll be explained that Ichigo is technically the oldest captain of the 'fleet, having registered himself as an unknown alien species rather than having to forge a new identity for himself every few years. So does Grimmjow.


End file.
